JW & SH
by ValkyrieDefender
Summary: This collection of unrelated (maybe some related) one-shots is of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson's relationship. Warning: This fanfic is shamelessly Johnlock. Don't like, don't read. Rated T just in case. Complete because I'm out of chapter ideas right now. If you have any ideas, either include them in your reviews or PM me. Thanks! Please Read and Review!
1. Chapter 1

JW &amp; SH

**A/N: This popped into my head as I was watching season three of **_**Sherlock**_**. I am I the only one, or do other people think that John and Sherlock are long overdue to kiss in the series? I own nothing… which is unfortunate because then Johnlock would have already been together in this series.**

**PS. The italics part right in the beginning here is from **_**His Last Vow **_**itself.**

_Very hard to find a pressure point on you, Mr. Holmes… But look how care about John Watson. Your damsel in distress._

"John," Sherlock said to his boyfriend of two years. "I have a surprise for you."

John Watson cocked his head slightly, before responding. He sat in his normal chair, working on his blog on his laptop. "What is is Sherlock?" The doctor was used to the consulting detective's antics by now, but he always made sure to ask.

"If I tell you it will take the fun out of it," Sherlock pouted.

"Fine," John gave in. He closed his laptop and stood up. "Where are we going?"

"Angelo's," Sherlock buttoned up his coat and wrapped his favorite scarf around his neck. "It was where we went our first date." Sherlock teased. He weaved their fingers together as they left their shared flat. Sherlock called for a cab, and soon they stood in front of the restaurant.

"Sherlock! John!" Angelo exclaimed. "You're back!" Would you like the usual table?"

"Yes please," John said. "That would be lovely."

As they waited for their table to be cleared, John snuck glances at Sherlock. He was still amazed that it had worked out the way it did. After the incident with Magnussen, the feelings that John had been trying to push down had overflowed. He had realized that him and Mary were never going to work out, so they got divorced a few months later.

When John told Sherlock of his feelings for him, he was fully expecting to be rejected. Some lecture on 'human error' or another, but thankfully those worries were unfounded. Sherlock, instead of being mad, kissed John and told him that he felt the same. Since then, the two had been in a relationship that had lasted two years. Two years! That was a lot longer than he expected it to.

"I have your table ready now you two lovebirds!" Angelo said, jolting John out of his thoughts. "I even put a candle at the table already." The doctor blushed remembering the first time he and Sherlock had come to the place. They went to their table and sat down. Angelo took their drink order and scurried off to the kitchen. A few seconds later he came back with a bottle of champagne.

"Um," Sherlock started. He gulped down a glass of the bubbling liquid. "These past two years have been the best of my life."

"What would you like for dinner you two?" Angelo interrupted. The owner of the restaurant held a notepad in his hand. Sherlock looked momentarily annoyed, but quickly wiped it off his face.

"John will have the steak– medium rare," Sherlock pointed at their choices. "I'll have the chicken parmesan." He closed his menu, handing his and John's menu to the man. Angelo left to put their orders in, and Sherlock turned back to his boyfriend.

"What did you want to ask me love?" John reached across the table and place his hand on top of Sherlock's, rubbing little circles with his thumb. A shiver ran down the detective's back at the touch.

"John I love you," Sherlock began what he wanted to say again. "I… Do you see a future with me John?"

"Of course I do," John smiled reassuringly. Sherlock visibly relaxed at that. The detective reached into his pocket and pulled out a small jewelry box, keeping it hidden from John for the moment.

"I would like to ask you something John," Sherlock stood up, getting down on to his right knee. He pulled the box from his pocket, opening it to reveal a gold ring with JW &amp; SH engraved on the inside. "Will you marry me?"

John gasp was audible in the quiet restaurant. Once he got over his initial shock he nodded. "Yes," the doctor said. "I will marry you!" Sherlock grinned, slipping the gold band onto John left ring finger. He pulled his new fiancé to his feet and kissed him.

John was so happy that he didn't even notice the other people in the restaurant clapping. He was lost in Sherlock, and he didn't want to leave.

"I love you so much my high-functioning sociopath," John whispered once they had broken apart. Their foreheads touched and they took comfort in each other's presence.

"And I you," Sherlock captured John's mouth in another kiss.

**A/N: So? What did you think? Should I add another chapter? Please let me know in your comments. Also, please let me know if anyone was OOC. Reviews would be much appreciated. **

**~ ValkyrieDefender**


	2. Chapter 2

JW &amp; SH

**A/N: I'm back! I decided that I couldn't leave my readers hanging any longer. I love you guys too much! Sherlock would call it 'sentiment', but I don't care.**

**Thank you to everyone that reviewed, favorited, alerted, and/or viewed my story! It means everything to me! **

**I own nothing…**

Chapter Two: The Wedding

The big day had finally arrived. Guests filed one by one into the small church. They were greeted at the door by an already teary-eyed Mrs. Hudson and an overly cheery Molly. They handed out small cards with a picture of two guns on them to be used for seating at the reception. Soft violin floated through the hall to where Sherlock was getting ready. The consulting detective recognized the tune immediately. It had been one that he had composed right after he and John first started dating.

_It had been another late night. Sherlock and John had just gotten back from a murder case. It had been a particularly gruesome sight— the victim's blood splattered across the bedroom wall, innards protruding from the woman's body, and other worse things. It was enough to make John's stomach turn. When he closed his eyes, it was all he could see. Now John, being a doctor in the Army, had seen many a horrific death, and the body had reminded him of that. As he sat with his eyes closed in his chair, flashes of the war plagued his mind._

_Sherlock had noticed. In one look he deduced what was making his boyfriend flinch every few seconds. Wanting to, but not knowing how to comfort John, Sherlock went over to where his violin case rested. He tuned the violin and tightened the bow. Raising the wooden instrument up, Sherlock pulled the bow hair across the strings, allowing all his emotions to flow into his playing. _

_Slowly, John came back out of the nightmare. He concentrated on the music, his eyes still closed. When he opened them the doctor was back at 221B Baker St._

_"Thank you," John whispered. Sherlock acknowledged him with a nod, still playing the violin. The music continued for another minute before Sherlock did one final up bow, finishing the piece. The consulting detective looked over at John, and was surprised to see a tears in his eyes._

_"John?" Sherlock set his violin and bow back in the case, loosening the bow beforehand. He walked over, sitting in his chair across from John. "What is it?"_

_"That was lovely," the blogger said, his eyes meeting Sherlock's. "Did you compose that?"_

_"Just now," Sherlock said simply._

_"Brilliant." Their knees bumped against each other as the doctor moved forward._

_"John?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"I… I love you."_

_John's mouth dropped open in shock. It wasn't like Sherlock to state his feelings so plainly. The doctor's heart beat rapidly as he stood, taking his boyfriend's hand causing him up as well. Sherlock cocked his head in question. John didn't answer. He wanted to show Sherlock how he felt. Grabbing the collar of the taller man's shirt, John pulled him forward and pressed his lips to Sherlock's. The consulting detective froze for a second, and John started to pull away. He chased after his blogger, stealing another kiss._

_"I love you too my high-functioning sociopath," John whispered as they broke away to take a breath._

Sherlock remembered that day quite clearly. Every moment with John was stored in a special place in his mind palace. There was no one else that Sherlock wanted to be with. He was truly lost without his blogger. At least after this day, they would never have to be separated again.

"Sherlock?" A knock came at the door, and Lestrade came in the room. "You ready? It's time. The ceremony is about to start."

"Is John out there?" Sherlock asked. He was nervous, but he forced his face into a blank expression. He clenched his fists so he didn't fiddle with the absurd sky blue tie that Mrs. Hudson forced him to wear. Only John would be able to see what he was really feeling at the moment.

"Yes," Greg said. "He's waiting for you at the end of the aisle. Now, have you got your vows and the ring?" Sherlock glared at Lestrade who was fussing over him like a mother hen.

"Of course I do," Sherlock rolled his eyes. He reached into his pocket and felt both things he would need.

"Come on then," Lestrade turned to go. Sherlock followed behind the DI to the reception hall. His parents were waiting for him by the closed doors to the chapel. Sherlock's mum had tears in her eyes, though she was smiling widely. Never had her baby looked so handsome. And Sherlock's father… he had a proud look on his face that the consulting detective hadn't seen since he was a child. Both embraced Sherlock, who squirmed slightly, but still hugged them back.

"I have to go in," Lestrade said. He placed his hand on Sherlock's shoulder. "He's okay with you two for a few moments?"

"Of course he is," Violet Holmes replied. "Go on Greg." She turned to face her youngest son, appraising him critically. "Are you alright dear?"

"Yes mother," Sherlock's face was a perfect mask of calm. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You're getting married," Mrs. Holmes replied. "I remember how nervous I was on my wedding day—"

"Mother," Sherlock interrupted.

A lone violin note sounded from inside the chapel. It was time. Sherlock's head snapped toward the door and his façade slipped for the briefest of moments. He was nervous, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

"It's time," Mr. Holmes said. Sherlock's mother and father linked their arms through their son's. The music morphed into the familiar wedding march as the doors began to open. The consulting detective grasped his parents hands as they began the walk up the aisle. A thousand camera flashes blinded Sherlock as the entered the chapel. When he could finally see again, he sucked in a breath.

John stood waiting at the end of the aisle. He wore a black suit, accented by a sky blue tie that matched his own. Mrs. Hudson's doing, no doubt. The doctor smiled widely as he saw his fiancée. A smile that was infectious— Sherlock felt his mouth stretch widely to match his blogger's expression. Everything else faded from existence. Only the feeling of his parent's arms linked with his stopped Sherlock from running the rest of the way to where John stood.

Thankfully, the aisle was mercifully short. Sherlock kissed his mother on the cheek and hugged his father before joining John. With tears in their eyes, Sherlock's parents went and sat down next to Mrs. Hudson.

"Hi," Sherlock said only loud enough for John to hear. He slipped his hand into John's, squeezing slightly.

"Hi," John breathed back.

"Dearly beloved," the minister started, making both men jump. "We are gathered here today…" Sherlock tuned the priest out almost as soon as he began, staring at his blogger instead. John stared right back, not hiding the look of love in his dark eyes even though everyone could see. Sherlock could live and breathe in that look.

"And now it is time for the vows," Sherlock heard, tuning back into what the minister was saying. "Mr. Holmes, you first." Sherlock reached into his pocket, pulling out the piece of paper and ring.

"John," the consulting detective began. "You have saved my life more times than I can count. You are the bravest and most selfless man I have ever known. How you fell in love with this high-functioning sociopath, I'll never know. I could go on and on for hours, but I won't." That earned a laugh for the congregation. "I would be lost without you my John. I'm beyond grateful that I will be able to call you— at last— my husband." Sherlock slipped the same ring on to John's left ring finger that he had proposed with. The one with JW &amp; SH engraved across the inside.

"And now you Dr. Watson," the priest droned.

"Sherlock," John took a deep breath. "I think I fell in love with you the moment you deduced my whole life, two seconds after we met. It just took some time for me to realize it. Now years later, I couldn't picture my life without you. I have and will always love you William Sherlock Scott Holmes." John slipped an identical ring to his— which also had JW &amp; SH engraved on the inside— onto Sherlock's finger.

"I now pronounce you married," the minister said. "You may kiss."

Sherlock and John needed no prompting. The consulting detective pulled the blogger toward him, kissing the man passionately, which John returned with equal feeling. When they broke away, both were breathless. Their hands still clasped together, they turned to face the congregation.

"I now present to you, John Watson and Sherlock Holmes!"

**A/N: *Sighs* Wow, that was a long chapter! I really hope you liked it. Should I continue on and make this a full story? Please let me know in your reviews!**

**~ ValkyrieDefender**


	3. Chapter 3

**JW &amp; SH**

**A/N: I fixed this chapter so it should no longer be nonsense.**

**Thank you to everyone that reviewed, favorited, alerted, and/or viewed my story! It really means a lot to me when readers show that they care!**

**Everything belongs to Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss, except the plot— I own that.**

Chapter Three: A Day Off

"Bored!" Sherlock grumbled. He held John's pistol in his hand, contemplating whether or not to shoot the smiley face on the wall again. It had been a month since his and John's wedding. They hadn't had a real case for weeks and Sherlock was restless. He had been cooped up in their flat, without much to do. He had done all his experiments, solved a few cold cases for Lestrade— ones he had been able to solve via text, and watched crap telly.

He was about to decide when Sherlock heard the door open downstairs. The consulting detective froze as he heard John coming upstairs. The familiar sound snapped Sherlock out of his daze. He jumped up, putting the pistol back in their bedroom where he found it. Sherlock fell back into his chair, just as John opened the door to the flat.

"I'm home," John said, not suspecting a thing. He had just gotten back from his shift at the hospital. He walked over to where Sherlock was sitting and kissed him lightly. "Did we get any cases while I was gone?" The doctor called back as he walked back to the bedroom to change out of his work clothes. He unbuttoned his shirt and threw on his favorite grey jumper. Sherlock waited until his husband came back into view before responding.

"A few," Sherlock said. "None of them were even a three. I was able to solve all of them in a hour." John sat down in his chair across from Sherlock, listening to him talk. "I was very bored while you were gone John."

"Did you shoot the wall again?" Sherlock wouldn't quite meet John's eyes. He knew that John didn't like it when he used the pistol without him around. The doctor tried again. "Sherlock. Did you take my gun again?" He said it slowly, every word drawn out as if he were talking to a child. That wasn't actually too far off the mark in most people's opinions.

"Yes," Sherlock looked at John after a long moment of silence. "But I didn't shoot the wall. You can ask Mrs. Hudson. She's been home all afternoon."

"I believe you Sherl," John relaxed. He may not be as apt as his husband when it came to noticing things, but he could tell when Sherlock was lying to him. "Why are you so bored? Don't you have any experiments to do?"

"It's because you're gone all day!" Sherlock snapped. "It's been a month since our wedding, John. One month. And I've hardly seen you. Every day you have to work at the hospital I never know quite what to do. I guess I truly am lost without my blogger." Sherlock grabbed the front of John's jumper and pressed their lips together. John responded with equal force, realizing how much he had missed the consulting detective. Over the past month the hospital had been busier than ever. John had to take more shifts, often to cover for someone else, at the hospital where he worked.

"I could take the day off tomorrow," John suggested as the couple broke apart. "We could spend the entire day together." He leaned forward and trailed kisses down Sherlock's neck. "Kissing.… with less clothes." The last suggestion was a whisper even though they were the only two in the room.

"Call now," Sherlock lips crashed back down on John's. He reached into his pocket and handed John his cell.

"I can't call if you keep distracting me," John stood up out of his chair, walking toward the kitchen. Sherlock stayed where he was, his blue-grey eyes tracking his husband's movements.

John scrolled through the list of contacts, glad he had made Sherlock put the hospital's number in his phone. Once he came to the one he needed, he hit the send button. The cell rang twice and Sarah picked up on the other end.

"Hello?" Sarah answered.

"Hi Sarah," John responded. "It's John."

"Oh!" Sarah said. "Sorry John. I didn't recognize the number. How are you? How's married life?"

"It's good," John replied. "Listen, I think I might be coming down with something. Would it be possible for me to take tomorrow off?" He coughed a little into the phone to make the lie more convincing.

"Are you okay?" Sarah asked. Her concern was audible from even where Sherlock was sitting.

"Yes," John assured his boss. "I have Sherlock here to take care of me. I just don't want anybody to be infected."

"Okay," Sarah still didn't sound too sure. "I'm looking at your schedule now. As of right now you have several appointments lined up, but nothing too serious. I could probably get someone to cover your shift tomorrow."

"Thanks Sarah!" John said. "You're the best!"

"You're welcome John," Sarah responded. "Feel better." The other side of the line clicked off. John hit the end button and set the cell phone down on the kitchen table.

"So?" Sherlock asked from where he was sitting. John walked over to his husband, and pulled him out of his chair. He kissed Sherlock, letting that be his answer. "Good." Sherlock nodded.

"This is the first day that I've taken off in a while," John realized. "Worth it." He stood up on his toes, pressing his mouth to Sherlock's. The consulting detective returned the kiss heatedly, his hands trailing up John's back. He played with the end of John's jumper, asking permission. Without breaking contact, John nodded consent. The grey jumper came off, soon followed by Sherlock's own purple button-down shirt.

"Bed?" John breathed.

"Bed," Sherlock agreed.

**A/N: Thanks for reviewing: Ciaras storys, Nighdustt, MaraudersAlways, kaley the vampire lover, guest (whoever you are), and merbirdgirl.**

**Thanks for favoriting (either me or story): Kai Ohashi, kaley the vampire lover, thepinkinpinkie, zenyasiyad, Ciaras storys, and Arabella PlesantSparrow.**

**Thanks for alerting: kaley the vampire lover, straight up g 52, Arabella PlesantSparrow, Ciaras story, and merbirdgirl.**

**I appreciate all of you guys!**

**Please review. They are a writer's bread and butter.**

**~ ValkyrieDefender**


	4. Chapter 4

JW &amp; SH

**A/N: If anyone has ideas on what I should do next in this fanfic, please include them in your reviews. I would love to hear your opinions on the course of this story.**

**I own nothing. This belongs to Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss.**

Chapter Four: Nightmare

Sherlock felt his husband's warmth as he slipped into bed. At three in the morning, John was fast asleep— had been for hours. The consulting detective snuggled into his blogger's side, a sleepy feeling coming over him. The feeling soon disappeared though, as the strangled whispers started.

"Sherlock," John muttered in his sleep. "No. Stop it."

"John?" Sherlock asked. He sat up, leaning over to his husband. "What's wrong?"

"Please," John moaned. He tossed and turned in his sleep. "Don't jump."

Sherlock's blood ran cold. He wasn't sure whether to try and soothe the man or let him fight his way out of the nightmare.

"John," Sherlock placed a hand on the blogger's side, shaking him slightly. "Wake up. I'm alive. Please John… I love you."

Tears sprung into Sherlock's eyes without warning. He hated seeing his husband like that. His blogger's desperate pleas tore at Sherlock's heart.

"Sherlock!" John gasped. He finally jolted awake, sitting up in bed. Sherlock froze. The doctor didn't even seem to notice the consulting detective. Hands shaking with adrenaline, John slipped out of bed. He stood next to it, his breathing quick and shallow. Moments later John padded across the wood floor to the bathroom. The door shut, and the water ran for several minutes. Sherlock could picture him staring into the mirror, gripping the sides of the sink.

Throwing back the blankets, Sherlock got up out of bed. He tiptoed past the bathroom to the living room. Quiet as mouse, the consulting detective got his violin out of its case. He plucked the strings slightly to make sure they were in tune, before getting the bow out. He tightened the hairs and lightly rosined them. Lifting the instrument to his shoulder, Sherlock placed the bow to the strings and began playing.

It had always been therapeutic for Sherlock, playing his violin. The consulting detective went into his own world— much like going into his mind palace. That's why he barely noticed when John came out into the living room.

He didn't make a sound. The lamplight coming in from the windows just gave enough light so John could see Sherlock with his violin. He made a cup of tea, knowing it would be a little while before he would be able to talk to Sherlock. The doctor sat down in his chair, listening to his husband play.

Too soon the music ended, the last few notes fading from existence. Sherlock lowered his instrument and was surprised to see John in his chair, clutching a cup of tea. His face was slightly blotchy and red, his eyes puffy. He had been crying. Sherlock felt an overwhelming need to hug John and never let his husband go.

"John?"

"Yes Sherlock?"

"You okay?" Sherlock sat in his own chair across from John.

"No," John closed his eyes. His hands still shook slightly. "I had a nightmare. Don't want to talk about it."

"It was the fall," Sherlock pressed. "Wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"Is… Is there anything I can do to make it better?" Sherlock asked. It was slightly ironic how their roles were reversed. Normally it was John asking that question.

"No."

"Please John," Sherlock pleaded. The doctor sighed, standing up abruptly.

"Just c'mere you git," John pulled Sherlock out of his chair and in for a hug.

"I love you John," Sherlock whispered in his husband's ear.

"I love you as well my high functioning sociopath," John relaxed into the taller man's arms. He was alive. That fact kept John sane now, as the memory of the fall threatened to overtake him. This was where he belonged. In this flat. With this man as his husband.

Forever.

**A/N: Sorry for the short chapter. Hopefully the next one will be longer. **

**Thanks for reviewing: Nighdustt, MaraudersAlways, kaley the vampire lover, and guest (whoever you are).**

**Thanks for favoriting (either me or story): Kai Ohashi, kaley the vampire lover, thepinkinpinkie, zenyasiyad, Ciaras storys, and Arabella PleasantSparrow.**

**Thanks for alerting: kaley the vampire lover, straight up g 52, Ciaras storys, Arabella PleasantSparrow, and merbirdgirl.**

**I appreciate all of you guys!**

**Please review. They are a writer's bread and butter.**

**~ ValkyrieDefender**


	5. Chapter 5

JW &amp; SH

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Nightdustt, who gave me the idea for it. Please, keep the ideas coming everybody. Thanks!**

**Oh, and again: I own nothing.**

Chapter Five: Hurt?

"John."

"John," the smooth velvety voice tried again. The doctor felt himself being shaken lightly. "If you don't wake up, I'm going to get your gun and shoot the wall again." John's eyes shot open at that. Sherlock was standing near the bed with an impatient look on his face.

"What Sherlock?" John rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He glanced over at the digital clock he kept on the nightstand. "It's six in the morning. What could you possibly want this early?"

"We have a case," Sherlock said simply.

"Oh," John moved to get out of bed. He motioned for Sherlock to leave. "Give me a few moments privacy, yeah?"

"John," Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I've seen you naked a thousand times." John blushed a fiery shade of red. He stood up and placed a hand on the taller man's back, guiding him toward the door.

"Sherlock please," John got Sherlock out into the hall. "Just go."

"Fine," Sherlock conceded. "But hurry. Lestrade said this case was an eight. And he never rates them that high." He turned and went out into the living room. John breathed a sigh of relief and shut the door. He loved his husband, but still. Sometimes he needed some time to himself.

John changed out of his pajamas into a black and white striped jumper and blue jeans. He brushed his hair flat with his hand, then when that didn't work, with a small comb. Then he went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth and washed his face with a cloth. Once finished, he looked in the mirror and deemed himself ready. He left the bathroom, turning the light off behind him.

Out in the living room, Sherlock paced impatiently back and forth. John smiled at his husband's impatience— he had never been good at waiting. He already had his coat on over his purple shirt and scarf wrapped around his neck.

"I'm ready," John said. "Are we taking a cab to Scotland Yard or directly to the crime scene?"

"Directly," Sherlock headed toward the door. "Lestrade will meet us there. Also, I requested that on a case of this magnitude, Anderson not be on the premise. He would just lower the whole IQ of the block." John stifled a laugh. He agreed with Sherlock; Anderson was definitely a pain in the arse. They made their way outside, where Sherlock raised an arm to hail a cab.

"Where are we going anyways?" John asked as a cab pulled to the curb. The couple got in and shut the door.

"Teale Street," Sherlock said more to the cabbie then John. "And step on it."

"What are we dealing with Sherlock?" John tried again.

"A murder," Sherlock said.

"Who?"

"Victoria Young," Sherlock showed John a few pictures on his phone that Lestrade had sent to him. "Age twenty-seven. Early riser. Occupation: wedding planner. Likes to take long runs with her small dog. Lives alone with said dog. No known criminal record, not even a parking ticket."

"Why would someone want to murder her?"

"I have a few theories, but I'm not sure," Sherlock sank back into the leather seat. "I need to examine the body to be certain." John and Sherlock rode the rest of the way in silence. About ten minutes later, the cab stopped in front of Teale Street. Police cars lined part of the street, blue and red lights flashing. Sherlock got out immediately, leaving John to pay the cabbie. He did so with a sigh, then followed his husband onto the colorful street.

"Hello Freak," Sally Donovan stood waiting a block down the road. "John."

"Donovan," Sherlock replied with a curt nod.

"Freak's here," she spoke into her radio. She gestured to farther down the street where the police cars were congregated. Both men walked past Sgt. Donovan, over to where DI Lestrade was.

"Sherlock," Lestrade briskly approached the couple. "John. Glad you're here. Come with me. The body is upstairs in the master bedroom. I told my team not to touch anything, just let you two have a look at things." They walked up a narrow set of stairs, to where the body sprawled out on the bed. Lestrade had stayed downstairs to prevent anyone from going up. The victim laid face down, a steak knife sticking out from between the shoulder blades.

"At least we know what the cause of death was," John quipped. All it earned him was a eye roll from his husband.

"Thank you for stating the obvious John," Sherlock began to examine the body. "The murderer was male, judging by the depth of knife. A woman doesn't have the strength to do that. About 7' 1" from the angle of the blade. Big meaty hands, used to holding weapons." All was as he suspected from the pictures, but one thing stood out.

One bloody handprint on the door of the nearby closet.

A new revelation hit Sherlock like a brick.

"John," Sherlock lowered his voice suddenly. "The murderer is still here."

"What!?" John matched the consulting detective's volume. "Where?"

"Closet," Sherlock whispered, even quieter than before. He crept around the bed, to the left side of the storage place. John did the same, but went to the right. Their movements were in sync after working together for several years. Each grabbed a doorknob, and John began a countdown.

"One…two…three!" John mouthed, only speaking aloud when he made it to the last number. They yanked their respective doors open, and a flash of silver came down toward John. The doctor cried out, falling back onto the bed and the corpse.

"John!" Sherlock yelled. Despite wanting to check on the shorter man, he turned and tackled the murderer who was trying to escape out the window. A few punches to the face, and he was out like a light.

"John," Sherlock raced back to his blogger's side. He was laying on the bed, blood splattered across shoulder. "Are you alright? John! Answer me!"

"I would," John stood up slowly. "If you would give me a chance." Relief was unmistakable on the consulting detective's face. Sherlock grabbed his husband by the front of his jumper and pulled him in for a kiss.

"What's going on!?" Lestrade raced up the stairs. "I heard shouting—" He cut off when he saw the couple. "Oh, sorry."

"We caught the culprit Gavin," Sherlock stated once he and John had broken apart.

"Greg," John muttered to Sherlock.

"Whatever," Sherlock rolled his eyes again. "Arrest this man… _Greg_. He killed Victoria Young and tried to kill John." Lestrade leaned down, placing cuffs on the murderer's wrists. With John's help, he was dragged down downstairs and into the back seat of the police car. The DI strapped him in and shut the door.

"Thank you both," Greg shook both men's hands. "Without you two, we'd never have caught this man."

"No problem Greg," John replied. "Just glad we got him." Lestrade nodded once more and walked back toward the scene of the crime. John turned to his husband. "Let's go home."

"Are you sure you're not hurt John?" Sherlock asked when they were back in their flat. He eyed his blogger with a critical eye, but could see nothing out of the ordinary.

"Of course I am," John said. "I'm going to make some coffee. Want some?"

"Black, two sugars," Sherlock said automatically. John went into the kitchen to starting making the caffeinated drink. He came back a few minutes later with two steaming mugs in his hands. The doctor handed one to Sherlock, and took a sip from the other.

"Mm," John felt warmer already.

"Are you sure John?" Sherlock asked all of a sudden.

"Yes," John placed his free hand on the taller man's shoulder. "Look at me. I'm just fine." Sherlock visibly relaxed, almost imperceptibly breathing a sigh of relief.

"Alright," Sherlock mumbled. He stared directly into John's eyes, speaking clearly this time. "Just know that I love you John Hamish Watson."

"Do you really need to go include my middle name?" John protested.

"Yes," Sherlock's laugh was a low rumble.

"Then I love you, William Sherlock Scott Holmes."

Sherlock grimaced. "No middle names?"

"Agreed."

**A/N: Hi again! I hope that this was a bit more light-hearted after that last chapter. Also, I wanted to say thanks to the people who have suggested ideas for chapters!**

**Thanks for reviewing: kaley the vampire lover, guest, MaraudersAlways, Nightdustt, Ciaras storys, merbirdgirl, and bloop.**

**Thanks for favoriting: Arabella PleasantSparrow, Ciaras storys, Kai Ohashi, kaley the vampire lover, thepinkinpinkie, ummemarloo, zenyasiyad.**

**Thanks for alerting: Arabella PleasantSparrow, Ciaras storys, MiAiMo, kaley the vampire lover, merbirdgirl, straight up g 52, and ummemarloo.**

**Please review and keep including ideas for chapters. I will dedicate them to your username if I use the idea.**

**~ ValkyrieDefender**


	6. Chapter 6

JW &amp; SH

**A/N: I own nothing…**

Chapter Six: Hidden

"John!" Sherlock yelled. The doctor in question was in their shared bedroom, cleaning. At the moment he was mopping the floor with a cloth. Someone had to do it, and his husband had never bothered. Which left John the job. "Where are my cigarettes?" Sherlock burst into the room, an irritated look on his face.

"I hid them," John stood, wiping his hands on the other dry cloth. "I want to be able to breathe, thanks. Plus, you always taste like cigarettes after." Sherlock huffed, took another nicotine patch out of his pocket, and stuck it on his arm. There were already two on his arm, making that one the third. It was a three-patch problem.

"It's impossible to sustain a smoking habit these days thanks to you," Sherlock muttered.

"You're welcome," John rolled his eyes, having heard every word that the consulting detective had said.

"They're under the mattress," Sherlock deduced. He had seen John's eyes flick to that spot when he entered the room. "Good try John, but not clever enough." He walked over to the bed, sticking his hand in between the mattresses.

They weren't there.

"I'm clever enough to know a better hiding place than under our mattress," John smirked. Sherlock's surprised face was priceless. The doctor picked up the cleaning supplies, storing the under the sink in the kitchen. Sherlock followed him, watching his blogger's face for any sign of where his cigarettes might be. He had tried to hide them before, but Sherlock had always managed to find them. There was a tell— the consulting detective just had to figure out what it was.

"Does Mrs. Hudson have them?" Sherlock scrutinized John's reaction. Nothing. Not even a twitch of an eyebrow. The doctor just picked up his laptop off the table, and sat down on the couch. He entered his password, and once he was logged in, went to his blog.

"Deduce me all you like," John commented, knowing that the taller man was still staring at him. He began to type out a recent case that they had been on. "I'm not telling you."

"Fine," Sherlock huffed, grabbing his coat off his chair. He put it on and wound his scarf around his neck. "I'm going out. I'll be back in a few hours."

"Love you too Sherlock," John called after his husband as the door shut. Once he heard the door downstairs to the flat slam shut, the blogger leaped up. He walked over to the fireplace, lifting the skull from its place on the mantle. A packet of cigarettes rested underneath— Sherlock's.

"Good try Sherlock," John tossed the cigarette pack into the air and caught it.

"But not clever enough."

**A/N: This is the one time that John outsmarted our favorite consulting detective! ;) Or did he? Sorry for the short chapter. Next one will hopefully be longer. I will try my best to update soon.**

**Thanks for reviewing: kaley the vampire lover, guest, MaraudersAlways, Nightdustt, Ciaras storys, merbirdgirl, bloop, and Mio dairi party.**

**Thanks for favoriting: Arabella PleasantSparrow, Ciaras storys, Kai Ohashi, kaley the vampire lover, thepinkinpinkie, ummemarloo, zenyasiyad, and keana895.**

**Thanks for alerting: Arabella PleasantSparrow, Ciaras storys, MiAiMo, kaley the vampire lover, merbirdgirl, straight up g 52, and ummemarloo.**

**Please keep the ideas coming for chapters! They are always very appreciated! Plus, I will dedicate the chapter to you if I end up using the chapter, so there is that. Anyways, please review.**

**~ ValkyrieDefender**


	7. Chapter 7

JW &amp; SH

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Mio dairi party, who gave me the idea for this story. Please keep the ideas coming everybody! Thanks!**

**I own nothing…**

Chapter Seven: Just Keep Swimming

"I don't want to go to the pool John!" Sherlock nearly shouted. He sat down in his chair, frowning.

"It's just water Sherlock," John sighed at his husband's stubbornness. They had been arguing over the same topic for about an hour and the doctor was beginning to lose his patience. John wanted to go swimming, but Sherlock kept refusing to go. He had already changed into his swim trunks and a towel in hand, ready to leave. The only delay was Sherlock. "Why are you being so obstinate about this?"

"Because," Sherlock ground out.

"That isn't a good answer," John crossed his arms. The blogger was determined to get an actual response out of the consulting detective, even if it took all day. "Now. Why are you so afraid of going to the pool?"

"I'm not afraid," Sherlock retorted. "It's just…"

"Just what Sherl?" John pressed. Sherlock glanced at his blogger, then down at the floor. He was reluctant to answer, but knew John would keep asking until he got a decent response. His husband could be stubborn like that, much like Sherlock himself.

"After what happened last time we were together at a pool I couldn't go again," Sherlock burst out. John blinked once, his expression remaining blank.

"As I recall," John decided to try and joke to reduce the tension in the room. "Last time you tried to take my clothes off. And we weren't even dating yet." Sherlock gave his husband an exasperated look, accompanied by an eye roll. The doctor changed tactics. "Please Sherlock. For me?" John gave the consulting detective his best puppy-dog face.

"Fine!" Sherlock threw his hands up in defeat. He couldn't resist when his blogger pleaded with him. "But don't expect me to enjoy it."

He stomped back to their shared bedroom— the one that was Sherlock's originally, shutting the door hard behind him.

John chuckled. His husband could really act like the child that many compared him to. John sometimes included.

What seemed like hours later, the couple got into a cab and headed off for a community pool nearby. Sherlock hardly spoke the whole way, just stared out the window and sulked. John didn't mind the silence during the ride. After living with the consulting detective for several years, he was used to him not speaking for sometimes days on end. It didn't really bother the doctor anymore.

Soon enough they reached their stop. Sherlock paid the cabbie and they got out. The consulting detective was still pouting, John could tell, but he was there. Once actually inside the building, the two men went into the locker room to put their clothes into a locker for safe keeping. Sherlock took off his shirt, John staring at him as he did so.

"Enjoying the view?" Sherlock quipped. It was the first thing he had said since they were at their flat. John rolled his eyes, taking off his own jumper. Then it was Sherlock's turn to stare.

"Ready?" John asked, startling Sherlock out of his reverie. The doctor looked at him with an expectant expression. Clearly he had asked a few times before Sherlock had answered.

"If I must," Sherlock sighed dramatically. "Let's just get this over with." John picked up both towels and turned, heading out into the pool area. To the left was the deep end and to the right, the shallow. Many children splashed about under the the watchful eyes of parents. Their shouts echoed across the checkered floor, increasing the volume tenfold. This was slightly overwhelming for Sherlock— a fact he wouldn't reveal even to his husband. The consulting detective followed John over to some metal bleachers on the other side of the pool. They spread their towels out over the seat, creating a nice cushion over the hard surface. Once finished, the couple walked down to the shallow side in order to actually get into the water. John didn't even hesitate, just walked down the steps into the water. Sherlock on the other hand was a different story. He stood by the stairs leading into the pool, still as a statue. Kids darted around him not noticing the consulting detective's fear.

"Are you coming?" John called from the other side of the pool. He sank under the water then came up, just wanting to get his head wet. The doctor ran a hand through his hair, tousling it. Sherlock though it actually looked quite cute on his husband.

"Yes," the consulting detective sighed. He took hesitant steps to the pool's edge. His bare feet kissed the water's surface as Sherlock finally got into the pool. The expression on his face betrayed his excitement and slight fear. "John!?"

"It's okay Sherl," John soothed. He gestured for his husband to come over to where he floated. "Just keep swimming love."

Sherlock paddled over into John's outstretched arms. The blogger enveloped the taller man into a hug, causing Sherlock to relax for the first time since they got to the community pool.

"I suppose this isn't too horrible," Sherlock muttered into the other man's chest. "You were right John."

"What was that?" John asked, pulling away so he could see Sherlock.

"You were right."

"Did that physically hurt to admit?" John joked. "Do you need me to do a check up? I am a doctor." Sherlock chuckled and rolled his eyes.

"Not here," the consulting detective leaned in and pressed his lips to the blogger's.

"You aren't helping Sherlock," John protested once they had broken apart. A few kids openly stared at the couple. "Maybe we should take this back to the flat?"

"Okay," Sherlock slipped his hand into John's. They got out of the pool, and walked back to the locker room. They grabbed their clothes, not bothering to put their shirts back on.

"Thank you John," Sherlock smiled. "For bringing me here. I needed this."

"You're welcome," John smiled back.

"I love you so much my John," Sherlock kissed his husband again. "I know I don't say it enough. But you are the best thing that could have ever happened to me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I love you too."

**A/N: Hey people of Fanfiction! 1,624 people have viewed this story! It's amazing to think about! I didn't know that this would be as popular as it has been. I am so grateful to all my readers!**

**Thanks for reviewing: kaley the vampire lover, guest, MaraudersAlways, Nightdustt, Ciaras storys, merbirdgirl, bloop, Mio dairi party, and clostridium.**

**Thanks for favoriting: Arabella PleasantSparrow, Ciaras storys, Kai Ohashi, kaley the vampire lover, thepinkinpinkie, ummemarloo, zenyasiyad, keana895, greekgirl317, and softballaddict11.**

**Thanks for alerting: Arabella PleasantSparrow, Ciaras storys, MiAiMo, kaley the vampire lover, merbirdgirl, straight up g 52, ummemarloo, ANIMEHOLIC52891, greekgirl317, luna1971, and softballaddict11.**

**Please keep the ideas coming for chapters! They are always very appreciated! Plus, I will dedicate the chapter to you if I end up using the chapter, so there is that. Anyways, please include them in your review or send me a PM. Please review regardless though.**

**~ ValkyrieDefender**


	8. Chapter 8

JW &amp; SH

**A/N: I would like to dedicate this chapter to clostridium. They gave me the idea for this chapter. Please keep the ideas coming everyone! Thanks!**

**I own nothing…**

Chapter Eight: A Simple Chore

"Damn it!" John heard Sherlock swearing coming from the room where they kept their washer and dryer. The doctor spun around to see water leaking from underneath the door. "John!" The call came seconds later. "I need you!"

"What are you doing in there?" John raced over to the scene, grabbing a couple of towels on his way. He mopped up some of the water, and left the towel to soak up any more that came through. The door opened to reveal Sherlock standing by the washing machine, an irritated look on his face. Water continued to pour out, running in streams past the consulting detective.

"I was trying to do laundry," Sherlock explained. John had to bite back a laugh at his husband's lost puppy-dog look. "The washer must be broken. There's no other possibilities to explain why it leaked."

"I'll give you one," John smirked. It wasn't often that he knew more than his husband. The few times he did were few and far between. The doctor trudged through the water, over to the overflowing washing machine. He immediately could tell what the problem was. "You didn't shut the lid tight enough. That's the reason the thing leaked."

"But this was a simple chore…"

"Help me clean this water up Sherlock," John knelt down and started soaking up water with the towel he had in his hand. Sherlock went and grabbed another few towels from their place, laying them out across the floor when he returned. They both mopped up the remaining liquid, taking sopping wet towels to hang in the bathroom every so often. Soon enough— too long in Sherlock's opinion— they were finished. John wiped his forehead with the back of his arm, breathing a sigh of relief. It was a miracle that none of their personal items were destroyed thatday. The mess had been contained to the one room. The couple didn't really keep anything of value in their laundry room anyway.

"From now on," John got up off the floor. He raised an eyebrow at his husband. "Maybe you should let me handle the washing."

"Fine with me," Sherlock nodded. The consulting detective walked out of the room, leaving John to restart the washer. The doctor went over to the machine, glancing down just as he was about to shut the lid. All the clothes inside were… pink.

"Sherlock!" John shouted, enunciating every syllable. The taller man burst in, thinking his husband was being attacked or something. When he saw that there was no immediate danger, Sherlock visibly relaxed. For a moment. "Why are all the clothes in the washer pink?"

"I'm not the expert on washing clothes John," Sherlock crossed his arms. "You tell me." John sighed and reached into the washer. He fished around for a bit until he found the culprit.

A red sock.

"Sherlock," John silently counted to ten. "How many times have I told you to seperate the white clothes from the red ones?"

"Several times…" Sherlock grumbled. Suddenly, the consulting detective got a mischievous look in his eyes. He crept over to the washer, and toward John. The doctor was so focused on his husband's face inching closer to his, he didn't notice the taller man grab a wet pink shirt out of the washer until it covered his face.

"Wha?" John was stunned. "Not funny Sherlock!" He pulled the wet mass off his face and immediately threw it at a laughing Sherlock. It stuck in the man's dark curly hair causing John to chuckle. "Now that was funny."

"Oh yeah?" Sherlock dashed back over to the washer, grabbing another piece of clothing to retaliate with. In minutes, both men were reduced to giggles fired the wet projectiles back and forth at each other. When the now-pink clothes were scattered on the floor, the couple stood on opposite sides of the room staring each other down. They were both breathing hard from the little 'fight' they just had.

"Truce?" John asked.

"Truce," Sherlock responded. He pulled his husband into his chest. "I love you John." The consulting detective leaned down and pressed his lips to his blogger's.

"I love you too my high-functioning sociopath," John whispered once they had broken apart. "Now, help me clean up this new mess?" Sherlock was out of the room before John could even finish his sentence. The doctor sighed.

Some things would never change.

**A/N: Sorry for the short chapter. I just wanted to post something since I haven't updated in a while. 2,162 people have read this fanfic! Thank you guys so much! My readers are what keep me writing!**

**Thanks for reviewing: kaley the vampire lover, MaraudersAlways, Nightdustt, Ciaras storys, merbirdgirl, bloop, Mio dairi party, clostridium, and all unnamed guests.**

**Thanks for favoriting: ArabellaPleasantSparrow, Ciaras storys, MiAiMo, kaley the vampire lover, merbirdgirl, straight up g 52, ummemarloo, ANIMEHOLIC52891, greekgirl317, luna1971, softballaddict11, Memphisyourastar, dust of love, and moonandstargodess.**

**Please keep the ideas coming for chapters! They are always very appreciated! Plus, I will dedicate the the chapter to you if I end up using the idea, so there is that. Anyways, please include them in your reviews or send me a PM. I'm nice, I promise! Please review regardless though.**

**~ ValkyrieDefender**


	9. Chapter 9

JW &amp; SH

**A/N: I own nothing…**

Chapter Nine: Sentiment

"John!" Sherlock called loudly. He laid back on the couch, coughing several times. The consulting detective grabbed a tissue from the box on the floor, blowing his nose. "John!"

The doctor burst out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped haphazardly around his waist. He held a bar of soap in his right hand, ready to defend Sherlock if necessary. The dark haired man smirked at his husband's appearance. "What were you going to do? Wash the intruders to death?" Sherlock asked sarcastically. John looked around, and seeing there was no immediate danger, lowered the bar of soap.

"What do you want Sherlock?" John's shoulders slumped in relief. He had been expecting an attack. "Can you see that I was having a wash?"

"Clearly," Sherlock coughed. He squirmed slightly, trying to get comfortable. John shook his head, walking back to the bathroom. Several seconds later, Sherlock heard the water shut off. John reappeared, standing back in front of the consulting detective. He raised an eyebrow, and gestured for Sherlock to continue. "Can you make me a cup of tea?"

"That's why you were calling for me?" John asked. "Because you wanted a cup of tea?"

"Yes John," Sherlock gave him that 'you're an idiot' look that was usually reserved for Greg Lestrade. "Can I have that cuppa now?"

"Just let me get dressed first," John gave in. The things he did for his husband. The doctor went back to their bedroom and got dressed. A few minutes later, much to Sherlock's happiness, John went into the kitchen to make the consulting detective some tea. He put the kettle on, pouring the water into a mug when after it came to a boil. The chamomile tea bag followed, making small ripples in the water. John took the mug out into the kitchen, placing it in Sherlock's outstretched hand. "Would you like anything to eat?" John knew what the answer would be, but the doctor in him had to ask anyway.

"Eating only slows me down," Sherlock said. John sat down in his chair, watching his husband.

"You wouldn't have gotten sick if you hadn't jumped into that river," John commented after only a few minutes of silence. Sherlock looked over at his blogger. "You have thousands of scarves. Why did you chase after that one?"

"It's my favorite," Sherlock stated simply.

"Why?"

"You gave it to me," Sherlock coughed again, this time louder than before. He took a sip of his tea, trying to calm his inflamed throat. Sherlock set the cup on the floor, putting his hands underneath his chin. "When it comes to you, I am prone to outbursts of sentiment. Fascinating."

"I love you too Sherlock," John rolled his eyes. He turned and went into the kitchen, this time making a cup of tea for himself. When he returned to the living room, Sherlock was still in the same position that John left him in, so he just sat down in his chair again. The consulting detective, now in his Mind Palace, muttered incessantly. John was so used to it after living with Sherlock for years, didn't even notice. The doctor took a sip of his tea, burning his tongue. He didn't realize it at first, but the muttering had changed into soft snores. John smiled, taking both mugs into the kitchen and setting them in the sink. He walked back over to the couch, wondering if he should take his husband to their bed. The taller man would be more comfortable there and it would be less likely that Sherlock would wake up with a sore neck or back. John's decision was made. He very carefully slid his arms under Sherlock's body, trying not to wake the man. Sherlock hardly ever got any sleep, so John was not going to wake him up. For both of their sake. John staggered underneath Sherlock's weight once he finally got him off the couch. The doctor heavily walked to their bedroom, sure Mrs. Hudson downstairs could hear him. Several steps later, John set Sherlock down on their shared bed. He took off the consulting detective's shoes, placing them not too far from the bed. Then he stripped his husband down to his trousers so he'd be more comfy. John covered Sherlock with a blanket, not bothering to get the man under the comforter. "There. Sleep well my love." John kissed the sleeping Sherlock's forehead. Then, he also took off his outer clothes so just his trousers were left. He laid down on the other side of his husband, curling into the taller man's back.

He was asleep within ten minutes, feeling safer than ever.

**A/N: I'm back! Okay so I wanted to advertise my Sherlock one-shot. It's called Let Me Give You My Life. It's based on the song "Take Me To Church" by Hozier. Please give it a look.**

**Thank you for reviewing: kaley the vampire lover, MaraudersAlways, Nightdustt, Ciaras storys, merbirdgirl, bloop, Mio dairi party, clostridium, Belen09, and all unnamed guests.**

**Thanks for favoriting: Arabella PleasantSparrow, Ciaras storys, kaley the vampire lover, thepinkinpinkie, ummemarloo, zenyasiyad, keana895, greekgirl317, softballaddict11, and cosplayingFiend.**

**Thanks for alerting: Arabella PleasantSparrow, Ciaras storys, MiAiMo, kaley the vampire lover, merbirdgirl, straight up g 52, ummemarloo, ANIMEHOLIC52891, greekgirl317, luna1971, softballaddict11, Memphisyourastar, dust of love, moonandstargodess, BookLoverBookWriter, JaiDaw, and Piplup13.**

**Please review. Feedback means the world to me!**

**~ ValkyrieDefender**


	10. Chapter 10

JW &amp; SH

**A/N: I'm dedicating this chapter to Guesticilous. They gave me the prompt for this scene. Thank you so much! Please keep the ideas coming! They are super appreciated! Even Sherlock seems to like them—**

**Sherlock: Wrong.**

**John: Sherlock!**

**Me: I don't believe you.**

**Sherlock: … *rolls his eyes***

**John: Well, no matter what my husband says, we do appreciate all the love and support you guys have given us.**

**Me: Awww. Isn't John the sweetest?**

**Sherlock: Obviously. *leans over to kiss John on the lips***

**Me: *Fangirls***

**Disclaimer: Seriously? Do I look like Steven Moffat and/or Mark Gatiss to you? **

* * *

Chapter Ten: Loopy Gas

"Sherlock?" John shook the consulting detective's shoulder, trying to get him out of his Mind Palace. It took several minutes before Sherlock blinked, registering his husband standing over him.

"What is it John?" Sherlock asked, sitting up. "Another case?"

"No," John shook his head. "I just got a call from my dentist. He said that I need to have my wisdom teeth removed."

"Why?"

"I don't know," John shrugged his shoulders. "Something about them not being impacted. I need you to take me."

"Why?"

"They are going to have to use a pretty strong anesthesia to sedate me," John explained. "I'm going to be out of it for a while."

"And why can't Graham take you?" Sherlock asked, settling back down on the couch.

"_Greg_ isn't my husband," the doctor gave the consulting detective a pointed look.

"Oh… fine!" Sherlock raised his hands up in defeat. "When is the appointment?"

"Next week."

* * *

The days before the surgery went very quickly for John and Sherlock. They had gotten several cases which made the time fly by. On the day of his appointment, John woke earlier than normal. Sherlock was surprisingly still asleep next to him. The doctor slowly got out of bed, not wanting to wake his husband. It wasn't often that the consulting detective got any sleep, especially when they had lots of cases.

"John?" Sherlock mumbled, stirring awake. The doctor in question was at his husband's side instantly.

"Shhh," John stroked Sherlock's dark curly hair. "Go back to sleep love. My appointment isn't for another few hours."

"Okay," Sherlock mumbled again, laying his head back on his pillow. John breathed a sigh of relief. He grabbed his grey jumper and a pair of pants, changing silently. He then went and brushed his teeth, since he couldn't eat anything before the appointment. John spent the next two hours out in the living room, either reading or on his laptop.

"Why did you let me sleep?" Sherlock's voice insisted. John looked up from his computer to see his husband standing next to him. The taller man was fully dressed, his arms crossed over his chest. "You know it only slows me down."

"Sherlock," John started, getting up from his chair. "You've only slept a couple hours these past few days. I know that you don't think so, but you do need sleep."

"Sure John," Sherlock rolled his eyes. He looked down at the watch he wore on his left wrist. "Isn't your appointment at nine?"

"Yeah," John responded. "Why?"

"It's 8:30."

"Shit!" John jumped up, his laptop clattering to the floor. "We need to go!" The doctor raced downstairs, not noticing that his laptop was no longer on his lap. Sherlock reached down and picked up the fallen computer, turning it off. He set it on John's chair, before grabbing his coat and scarf. "Sherlock! Hurry up!" The consulting detective wrapped the scarf around his neck before following his husband downstairs. Outside the flat, Sherlock raised his hand and called for a cab. Almost immediately one stopped for the couple. They got in, Sherlock shutting the door behind them. About ten minutes later the taxi halted in front of John's dentist. The doctor jumped out of the cab, leaving Sherlock to pay the cabbie. He did so, then went after his blogger.

The consulting detective found the shorter of the two sitting in the waiting room, filling out some paperwork. Once John was finished, he turned it into the lady at the front desk. Sherlock checked his watch again. It was only 8:57. They had made it with minutes to spare.

"John Watson?" A nurse called several moments later. "The doctor is ready for you now." Both men got out of their seats, walking into the back. John slipped his hand into Sherlock's and gave him a panicked glance.

Sherlock squeezed John's hand reassuringly. The nurse brought them into a small room with lots of dental tools. John sat down in the chair, Sherlock right next to him in a different one. Their hands remained intertwined, even when John's oral surgeon came into the room.

"Hello Dr. Watson," the surgeon shook his hand. "And you are?" This was directed toward Sherlock.

"This is my husband Sherlock Holmes," John introduced.

"Nice to meet you," Doctor Palik shook the consulting detective's hand. Sherlock opened his mouth to start rattling off his deductions, but John noticed and elbowed him. "Now as we discussed, I'm going to give you some nitrous oxide through your I.V. so you can relax during the surgery. Did you take the Valium I prescribed last night and this morning?"

"Yes."

"Okay," Palik said. "Now if you're ready, I'd like you to lay back. I'll call the nurse in and we'll prep you." John's heart began to beat slightly faster, though he was pretty relaxed from the medication. He clutched Sherlock's hand as the people bustled about.

"Dr. Watson?" The surgeon's assistant asked. "May we begin?" John nodded his consent. The same nurse, placed a oxygen mask over the blogger's mouth. Once he adjusted, they piped a small amount of laughing gas through the tube. John felt himself slip into a sleep-like state. With only a slight prick, the I.V. went into John's arm. Like the doctor had explained before, he could hear them talking while sedated. The rest of the operation was a blur for the doctor. Soon, he was blinking his eyes open to see Sherlock's face.

"Shlock?" John slurs. "Why'ee you so blurry?" He starts to get up, but Sherlock eased him back down onto the chair.

"Don't get up," Sherlock said soothingly. "You've just come out of surgery."

"Whazz you talkin' 'bout?" John made an attempt to sit up again, but was pushed back down. "I have to get my wisdom teeth out today!"

"John," the consulting detective chuckled. "You already had your surgery."

"Really!?" The doctor began giggling uncontrollably. Sherlock was going to pull out his phone and record his husband's antics, but the surgeon walked in.

"Mr. Holmes?"

"Yes doctor?"

"I'm a doctor Sherl," John interjected, reaching out a hand.

"I know love," Sherlock taking his blogger's outstretched hand. "You were saying Dr. Palik?"

"You need to change his gauze every half-hour," the surgeon explained, handing Sherlock a syringe. "And he needs to swish with salt water in between changes. You can flush out his bottom gums with this. That way they don't become infected. His stitches will dissolve in a few days."

"Thank you doctor," Sherlock shook Dr. Palik's hand, then the surgeon left the room. The consulting detective turned his attention back to his husband. "Time to go home John."

"Do we has to?" John asked. "I thought we havin' fun here?"

"Not really," Sherlock helped his husband up off the dentist chair. They walked unsteadily outside, where Sherlock hailed a cab.

"You're so good at that," John observed as a cab stopped in front of them. They got in, and Sherlock shut the door behind them.

"Hmm?"

"At getting cabs."

"It's because I am tall," Sherlock explained, like he was speaking to a child. "It's easier for cabbies to see me."

"Mm," John leaned his head on his husband's shoulder. In seconds, the doctor fell asleep. They were soon in front of 221B. Sherlock glanced over to see that John was still out like a light. The consulting detective paid the cabbie, then gathered up his husband in his arms. Sherlock carried John up to their flat, Mrs. Hudson letting them into the building.

"What happened?" Mrs. Hudson gasped.

"John got his wisdom teeth out today."

"Oh," the landlady said. Sherlock half listened as he brought his sleeping husband upstairs, and laid him in their shared bed. "I remember when I got my wisdom teeth out. It was the summer after I turned seventeen. Back then, it wasn't as much of a requirement as it now. But my mother insisted—"

"Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock interrupted, whispering so he wouldn't wake John. "My husband needs to get some sleep."

"Do you want me to make you a cuppa?"

"No!"

"Fine," Mrs. Hudson started out of the room. "I'll check on you boys later." Sherlock waved her off, laying down next to his husband. He curled up into John's side, tangling their limbs.

He was asleep in minutes.

* * *

**A/N: I will know what John went through soon. I'm getting my wisdom teeth out August 18th. Please wish me luck.**

**Thanks for reviewing: kaley the vampire lover, slytherin-demigod-of-221B, Nightdustt, Ciaras storys, merbirdgirl, bloop, Mio dairi party, clostridium, Belen09, softballaddict11, Guesticilous, ThisIsWAR, CityofAngels, and all unnamed guests.**

**Thanks for favoriting: zenyasiyad, ummemarloo, thepinkinpinkie, softballaddict11, keana895, kaley the vampire lover, greekgirl317, cosplayingFiend, NeverEndingPretending, Ciaras storys, and Arabella PleasantSparrow.**

**Thanks for alerting: ummemarloo, straight up g 52, softballaddict11, sherlockfanonly, moonandstargodess, luna1971, kaley the vampire lover, jamathis, greekgirl317, dustoflove, Piplup13, MiAiMo, NeverEndingPretending, Jaidaw, Memphisyourastar, Ciaras storys, BookLoverBookWriter, Arabella PleasantSparrow, and ANIMEHOLIC52891.**

**Please review! They are always greatly appreciated!**


	11. Chapter 11

JW &amp; SH

**A/N: The dedication for this chapter goes out to !**

**I've been applying to colleges and I started my senior year of high school recently. That's the reason for the lack of updates lately. Plus, I have no beta to keep me on track. I could really use one though. If anyone is interested, PM me. Please think about it?**

**Reminder: I own nothing…**

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Chapter Eleven: Camping

It began with the telephone ringing.

Sherlock had been sitting in his chair as John read the caller id. He looked so excited that Sherlock deduced that his sister had finally called him back. See, they were supposed to go camping together that weekend. John hardly ever left his husband by himself for too long. When he did, the detective tended to get himself into trouble. Sherlock had gotten very strict orders to behave himself while the doctor was away. Not that Sherlock was making any promises. John answered the phone with a grin that soon faded from his face.

"What do you mean you can't go?" John asked. Sherlock could only hear one side of the conversation, but he could guess at what Harriet was saying. "But we had been planning this trip for weeks… Yes I'm mad at you Harry. You knew how I've been looking forward to this… No, I'm sorry too." John hit the end button on the phone, slamming it angrily on the table. He stalked into his and Sherlock's bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Sherlock had sat quietly through the whole exchange between siblings. He knew how it felt to be blown off by a sibling. When he was a kid Mycroft was often 'too busy' to play with his younger brother. He was going to make it up to his husband… he just didn't know how yet. Getting up, Sherlock headed toward the door. He went downstairs to Mrs. Hudson's flat and knocked on her door. After a few seconds the landlady opened it.

"Oh hello dear," she said. Mrs. Hudson might not be a world-class consulting detective like Sherlock, but she was an expert at noticing things. Especially when it came to her two boys. "Is something wrong?"

"Harriet canceled their plans to go camping this weekend," Sherlock said.

"Oh the poor dear," Mrs. Hudson looked confused. "But what're you doing down here?"

"I need your help cheering up John."

Mrs. Hudson looked surprised. In the years that she had known him she had never heard him say those four little words.

"You could take John camping yourself," the landlady suggested.

Sherlock made a face. "I refuse to stay one night out in the woods."

"Then set a tent up in your flat instead," she said offhandedly. Sherlock took a moment to consider the idea. After a minute, he nodded slowly. It wasn't a bad thought. Plans quickly started to form in his mind palace.

"Alright," the detective said, still half in his mind palace. He kissed Mrs. Hudson on her cheek as a thank you. Sherlock spun around and left the flat, leaving the landlady standing alone.

"Bye dear."

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The next day, John went to work as usual instead of leaving on his trip. This made him more irritable all day causing him to snap at one of the new nurses. He apologized right away, but continued to feel bad up until the moment he opened the door to 221B Baker Street.

"What the—" he stood in the doorway, shocked at the sight before him. There was a tent sitting in the center of the room, everything else pushed to the sides. But the opening was facing the fireplace. A corner of the hearth was exposed, and John could see a fire going inside. The doctor didn't know what to make of it. "Sherlock? Where are you?"

Sherlock emerged from inside the tent. "Here." He studied his husband's confused face as the doctor observed their flat in its current disarray. Sherlock could see that John didn't quite know what to make of the tent.

"Why is there a tent in our living room?" John asked once he gained his voice back.

"Harry canceled your camping trip."

"Yeah I know Sherlock," John said. "I was there. I'm just surprised you noticed."

"Of course I did," Sherlock took a step toward his husband. "I always notice when it comes to you John." The doctor blushed furiously as Sherlock leaned down to press his lips to the shorter man's. John kissed the detective back, threading his fingers through the taller man's dark curly hair.

"I love you," John whispered breathlessly once they had broken apart for a second. Sherlock crashed his lips back down onto John's.

A minute later John's stomach growled, making the doctor pull away so he could giggle. "Sorry. I haven't eaten anything all day."

Sherlock stole another kiss. "I bought hotdogs."

"Are you actually going to eat one?" John raised an eyebrow.

"Eating just slows me down John," the detective rolled his eyes, giving his husband a look. It was irritated, but still full of love.

"For me?" John pouted, his bottom lip sticking out adorably. Sherlock felt his will weaken then dissolve completely. He had never had much willpower when it came to his husband.

Sherlock sighed in defeat. "Fine." John grinned immediately. "But just one."

They went into the kitchen, getting the package of hotdogs out of the refrigerator. Back in the living room, Sherlock grabbed two iron pokers from near the fireplace. They stretched out on their stomachs inside the tent. Sticking the hotdogs on the rods, they held them over the fire. In a few minutes their dinner was cooked and they placed the meat inside the buns.

John took a bite of his hotdog. "Mm, I haven't had these in a while. Not since my last trip with Harry." The doctor sobered. He hadn't mentioned his sister since the phone call. As much as it annoyed John all the time she canceled, she was still his sister.

They finished their hotdogs, and Sherlock got up. He headed back to the kitchen, coming back with things to make s'mores as a surprise for John.

After they had eaten their treats, the couple laid on the floor together. John was curled into Sherlock, the detective's arms wrapped around his blogger's waist.

"Thank you so much for doing this for me Sherlock," John nuzzled his face into his husband's chest. "And for being there to cheer me up."

Sherlock snuggled closer to John, his nose buried in the blogger's hair.

"Always."

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**A/N: I know I wrote this, but dang. These two are so freaking adorable! So. Much. Fluff. ("It's so fluffy I'm gonna die!")**

**I wish they would actually become a couple on the show. It probably won't happen but it makes for some fantastic fanfiction!**

**Thank you to all the people who have read, reviewed, favorited, or alerted this story. All the support means a lot you guys! And that's why I love you all!**

**Please review. I've been having my doubts about continuing this. So, if you want me to keep going please say so in your reviews and PMs. They are the only reason I will continue this story!**


	12. Chapter 12

JW &amp; SH

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to CityofAngels. They inspired me to write this chapter!**

**Sorry this chapter is so late. My life has been very busy lately.…but enough with excuses. On with the story!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing… unfortunately.**

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Chapter Twelve: Never Let Go

Thursday nights were date nights. Sherlock had agreed to that. What he hadn't agreed to was watching girly chick-flick movies. _Sleepless in Seattle_, _The Notebook_, _The Breakfast Club_, and _Dirty Dancing_ were just a few that John had forced the detective to watch. Those movies were the most boring for Sherlock, because he could always predict the endings. And tonight's choice was no better. John had picked the movie with the most obvious one.

_Titanic_.

"John why do we have to watch this ridiculous movie?" Sherlock asked John as he inserted the first DVD into the player under the telly. The doctor gave his husband a look, then rolled his eyes. "Everyone knows how it ends. The boat sinks. What else is there?"

"You'll see," John pushed play on the remote. The doctor put a finger to his lips. "Now shhh." Sherlock shook his head, but settled in next to his husband anyway. He was only watching this movie for him. John snuggled into Sherlock's side, and the detective smiled. Maybe there was one good thing about movie nights. The taller man relaxed, putting his arm around John so he could get even closer.

"John aren't their better things to do while watching a movie?" Sherlock asked, kissing the corner of John's mouth. John's lips twitched and he turned his head slightly to capture Sherlock's mouth for a second.

"Would you please watch the movie now?" John asked, going back to watching the screen. Sherlock sighed. He was just going to have to suffer through it. The detective switched his attention to the telly. After a few minutes, Sherlock was bored. But he didn't say a word.

After a DVD switch, and one bathroom break later they were curled back up together on the couch. The second disc was playing on the telly, but Sherlock again was hardly paying attention. As John was transfixed by the characters on screen, Sherlock was transfixed by the man sitting next to him. Out of the corner of his eyes he watched his husband watch the movie. John had the most emotive reactions that Sherlock was continually storing in his mind palace.

As the grand ship began to sink, tears pooled in John's eyes. And when they got to the famous, "I'll never let go" line, John was full-out sobbing. Sherlock rolled his eyes again, but just pulled his husband closer to him. He kissed the top of the doctor's head, as he buried his face in Sherlock's shirt. They stayed that way until the credits rolled.

"John?" Sherlock nudged the other man slightly. "The movie's over." Slowly, the doctor raised his head. He blinked rapidly, looking at Sherlock like he hadn't seen him in weeks. "What's wrong, love?"

John let out an unsteady breath, his voice very soft when he spoke. "I was remembering…"

"Remembering what?" Sherlock's voice was equally as soft. He could deduce it, but he decided to just let John tell him.

"The fall," John whispered, a haunted expression on his face.

Oh.

Sherlock understood all too clearly. That day haunted him as well.

He pressed his lips to John's forehead, wrapping his long arms around the shorter man. The couple laid there in silence, taking comfort in each other.

"I understand why you did it Sherlock," John said in a muted tone. "To save Mrs. Hudson and Greg—"

"Mostly you."

"But it still damn hurts," John continues like Sherlock hadn't spoken. "Worse than getting shot back in Afganistan. I loved you back then Sherlock. Did you know that? When you fell, it felt like my heart was breaking. I realized it when I saw you bleeding on the pavement. I loved you. And I couldn't even tell you — because you were dead! I tried to tell myself that you were just playing a trick on me, that you were still alive. I wasn't planning on moving on, marrying someone else. But two years is a long time Sherlock; I had lost all hope. I considered joining you in the afterlife Sherlock. Several times. Taking my gun, and ending it. It couldn't have hurt worse than what I had felt after losing you." John collapsed onto Sherlock's chest after his speech, like it had taken all his remaining energy. Sherlock had been stunned into silence; he hadn't known what John had been through after jumping off St. Bart's.

"John," Sherlock began. "I will never leave you again. You're stuck with me for the rest of our lives."

"Promise?" John looked up at Sherlock.

"Promise," Sherlock repeated. "I love you John. Always." He leaned down to press his lips to John's.

"I love you too Sherlock."

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**A/N: Well that got real dark, real fast. Hopefully the next one will be fluffier. But I'm kinda out of ideas for chapters, so if anybody has any I would sure love to hear them! Just leave them in your reviews or PM me. I'm not mean, promise!**

**Next topic: A beta. I need one. Plain and simple. I'm done beating around the bush about this. Oh, and only registered betas. So, if you are interested PM me. Please?**

**Read and Review. I'd like to see this chapter get at least 10 reviews, but I'm not counting on it. It'd be greatly appreciated if you prove me wrong readers!**

**Thank you to anyone who has read, reviewed, alerted, and/or favorited my crappy little fanfic!**


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